Carpe Noctem
by s marielovely
Summary: Hermione Granger takes on an apprenticeship in potions with Professor Snape – but with a war looming, being in such close proximity to a death eater is quite precarious - both in matters of mortal danger as well as matters of the heart.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I do not, very unfortunately, own any of the characters – only my manipulation of said characters ;) HBP and DH have been almost completely disregarded in this fic. Oh, and there will be some Ron bashing – but only for the sake of moving things in a different direction. Rated M for a lot of lemony goodness coming in later chapters.**

**Also, for those who may wonder, "Carpe Noctem" means "Seize The Night" in Latin.**

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Hermione chewed her lip nervously. She had been waiting in the Gryffindor common room for exactly 22 minutes, dressed and primped for the Yule Ball. Her normally wild curly mane was tamed, falling in more delicate waves upon her shoulders. A shimmering silver hair comb pulled one side away from her face which now glowed with the firelight. Her gown was made of fine satin and lace in a deep marine blue that complimented her ivory complexion so perfectly. Yes, she looked wonderful, but where was her date?

It took Ron Weasley a lot of that Gryffindor courage to actually ask Hermione to the ball. Most of the courage was just to overcome his pride. He had hoped that by his seventh year, he'd at least have a few girls fawning over him to choose from, but no such luck ever befell a Weasley before. Therefore, not wanting it to seem like a last resort, he simply asked his dear friend and she said yes.

A fact she was regretting now – now exactly 36 minutes after he was supposed to arrive. Fed up with waiting for her inconsiderate friend, Hermione scrawled a short note that she had waited long enough and would simply meet him in the Great Hall and proceeded to make her way there.

Light, music, talking, and laughing poured out of the hall as she approached it. Taking a quick glance around, Hermione attempted to seek out any of her friends so that she would not have to stand around awkwardly. She immediately found Harry, laughing and talking with a very beautifully dressed Ginny who was also standing next to a daft idiot known as Ronald Weasley.

Hermione's cheeks flamed with acute annoyance. She walked over to where her friends stood.

"Hello Harry. Ginny, you look very pretty!" Hermione smiled and touched the material of Ginny's gold and ivory gown to emphasize her admiration.

"Hell, Hermione, I didn't think you were coming. These girls, Harry, they take too damn long," Ron elbowed his friend a little too hard, causing Harry to wince, or maybe it was because he could see the look the girl was giving their friend now, and he knew it meant trouble.

"Too long? Ron, I waited for you for over a half hour! Where were you?" as she spoke, she took a step forward as if to keep the conversation closed between them, but the awkward red-head stepped back, his hands up in a mock surrender.

"Well bloody 'ell, 'Mione, we're just friends after all. I didn't think it was necessary," Ron tucked his hands away in his pockets, looking to Harry for help who then just shrugged and turned away. He made his bed. He could lie in it.

"Not necessary? Ugh!" Hermione threw her hands up in frustration before she continued, "And to think I actually was looking forward to this!" quickly, she spun on her heels and took a few long strides away from Ron and over to Ginny who shot a look at her brother that could have melted all of the freshly fallen snow outside and flooded the entire castle.

It was only a couple hours into the ball, and Hermione was miserable despite appearances. She continued to dance and laugh and talk with everyone but the boy who was supposed to be her date, but inside, she felt rejected, frustrated, and alone. Taking a moment to herself, she slipped away and sat at a table by herself, pretending to just be taking a rest to get a drink in.

The fiercely intelligent girl surveyed the room around her. Everyone seemed so happy. Even Neville was having the time of his life dancing with a sixth year girl whom she did not know. It was then that she saw Ron, her supposed friend, was trying terribly hard to chat up a girl who couldn't have been less interested if she wanted to be. _Serves him right to make a fool of himself_, she thought, grinning like a chesire cat despite her distaste for the entire situation.

"Miss Granger," a cool voice slithered from behind her and into her ear canal. Instantly, goose bumps rose over her flesh. She turned to face none other than Professor Severus Snape dressed in his usual woolen black robes, his tall, thin frame towering over her. Unsettled, Hermione stood at once, but he still seemed to loom over her, threatening to swallow her tiny frame up in his shadow.

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**Short, I know, but it will move on a bit more in the next (much longer) chapter. Reviews fuel the soul. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for your kind reviews! Keep them coming! And please, don't hesitate to suggest things you might want to see occur. I am open for suggestions and will consider them very, very seriously! And constructive criticism is always appreciated. if you think something's not quite right or moving too slow or too fast or Snape isn't Snapey enough, let me know!**

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"Professor Snape!" Hermione managed, trying to sound pleasant and not half-startled to death. Regaining full composure, she pressed for something else to say, something clever and genuine.

"Your robes look clean," as soon as the words left her mouth, Hermione was about ready to turn her own wand on herself. She had never felt awkward in her classes. She knew all the right things to say when a professor asked an important question about mandrakes or sleeping draught or the ingredients in a skele-gro potion. However, despite all that knowledge she possessed, Hermione Granger was nothing short of awkward when it came to social situations. She began to stammer out some kind of cover-up for her blunder, but Snape's patience ran out swiftly.

"Miss Granger, I have no desire to engage in forced conversation with you. You are staying here over holiday, correct?" at her nod he continued, "Then I would like to extend an invitation to you to begin an apprenticeship with me," It took a moment for Hermione to catch up to this abrupt no-nonsense invitation and what it meant, but when it registered, her eyes lit up.

"Oh, sir! Really? But I thought an apprenticeship could not start until the end of the school year?" Confused but thrilled, she could barely contain herself.

"Indeed, Miss Granger, but as insufferable a know-it-all as you may be, you still have much to learn. You may meet me first thing in the morning at seven AM sharp in my study," he slightly over pronounced the 'P' in sharp, emphasizing to her the importance that she be punctual. Surely, he didn't have to – everyone knew that Hermione Granger would arrive anywhere early if not perfectly on time at her latest, but Professor Snape was never the kind of professor to treat any student any differently from any other dunderhead he taught.

All Hermione could do was nod enthusiastically, her cheeks pained with the big grin permanently fixed upon her face. She was slightly offended by his insult, but the ultimate compliment had already been paid – he wanted to take _her_ as an apprentice. He could call her a filthy slug-sucking mudblood, she'd still be floating on a cloud after that. She forgot about Ron after that.

The next morning, Hermione arrived at the much-feared and rarely-visited door of Severus Snape's private study exactly 10 minutes early. A tentative knock went unanswered, so she knocked a little harder – perhaps a bit too hard in her eagerness, actually. The door ripped open to reveal her professor standing there, his brow furrowed in annoyance.

"There is no need to break the door down, Miss Granger," he stepped to the side to let her enter. She gave him an apologetic look, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. She had never been in his private study before, but it was perfectly suited to the bat of the dungeons. The windows had tightly drawn curtains, keeping most light out. The only light came from multiple candles and one oil lamp. The walls were lined with bookshelves which were overflowing with countless volumes bound in leather. His desk looked old but sturdy and of a deep ebony wood.

"Sit," the command came out soft, but stern. Hermione instantly complied, settling herself down onto a very uncomfortable wooden chair. As Snape walked past her to what appeared to be a narrow closet door she hadn't noticed before, she could smell his wool and found herself quite enamored with it right away. Fleetingly, she thought of amortentia, but redirected her focus to the silky voice drifting out of the tiny closet.

"Are you familiar with the proper way to exact parts from snakes for the purpose of making potions, Miss Granger?" he emerged with a giant barrel and placed it in the center of the room then looked at the curly-haired girl expectantly.

"I have read about it some, sir," she neglected to mention that it had been during her second year. She felt apprehensive. Most snake parts were not ingredients that students were expected to deal with. There had been a time when they had used boomslang skin for polyjuice potion, but that had gone terribly wrong in Hermione's case, and she was content to stay far away from the stuff for as long as she continued to exist.

"Then surely you can put the knowledge to practice and start on these," he disappeared into the closet again before coming out with three boxes stacked with empty jars and placed them on the floor next to the barrel. Disappearing only one more time, he returned with a sharp knife and extended it towards the girl. A corner of his mouth turned up in a menacing smirk at the sight of her face twisted in disgust.

"That is unless you do not want the apprenticeship…" he trailed off, knowing she'd give in, and give in she did. Shaking her head, she took the knife and walked to the barrel, gingerly peering over the side. She exhaled in relief. The snakes were already dead. She would just have to extract the various parts her professor apparently needed. Still, it wouldn't be a pleasant job.

Hermione worked diligently, a permanent grimace upon her face as she extracted the fangs, venom, and skin of the snakes and put them into jars. Her professor sat at his desk, a large book – even larger than any that Hermione had ever read – splayed open as he read silently. Every so often, he would glance at the pretty girl surrounded by snake carcasses on the stone floor and he felt a twinge of satisfaction and something else he couldn't quite name.

It was a sudden gasp and a hiss of 'damn' that brought his attention back to the girl after a long while. Hermione clutched her hand to herself, rocking back and forth in pain. The lines on Snape's forehead deepened and he was instantly at the girl's side to see what happened. He was prepared to see that she had managed to cut her finger open and turned out to be shocked by what he noticed instead.

Hermione's hand was quickly swelling, the cause of which seemed to be the two tiny holes on the back of her hand between her thumb and forefinger from which blood was starting to leak out of. The skin around the bite was a screaming red color that seemed to spread out like splattered paint.

"Clumsy girl!" Snape snarled and scooped the girl up as if she were nothing. Sliding everything off of his desk, he cast a silent cushioning charm before laying her down upon it. It was clear that she was fading fast. Her eyelids fluttered and her breath became labored. Her skin was damp with cold sweat. Even a dead snake still has enough potent poison in its fangs to kill someone swiftly, but painfully.

Summoning a myriad of ingredients from his storeroom, the bat of the dungeons worked with deft hands to make a proper antidote for the girl – all the while keeping mind that time was of the essence. Coal black eyes kept careful watch over her rapidly disintegrating condition.

Finishing the potion, Snape went to the girl and held her limp body up just enough so that he could administer the potion without the hazard of her choking on it. The liquid was the yellowish-grayish color of bile, and smelled worse. However, as soon as he had poured the wretched stuff down the girl's throat, it seemed that her breathing and heart rate slowed. Color began to come back to Hermione's cheeks and the swelling in her hand went down along with the angry red streaks coming from the bite. The holes themselves soon closed up. As quick as the work may have been, the antidote was powerful indeed.

Still, she had yet to regain consciousness. Severus' brow furrowed at this, his student still cradled in his arms. This close, he couldn't avoid taking in the scent of her and despite a large amount of resistance on his part, he enjoyed it immensely. She smelled of spiced apples and flowers and just faintly of snake innards. He studied her face closely. Her lids kept warm brown eyes carefully hidden at the present time, but her lashes were long and thick and kissed the tops of her cheeks. Her lips, though on the thinner side, were a rosy pink and her top lip possessed a shapely cupid's bow. Snape found himself wondering what kissing those lips would feel like, and then his thoughts turned dark as he wondered what those lips would feel like worshipping his…

"Professor?" a small voice snapped him out of his reverie just in time. He shook his head as if to completely shake the idea off of himself and away forever. Hermione's eyes were now open and looking up at him with a mixture of confusion and wonder. She was startled not only to be alive after the world had seemed to be fading away so quickly, but that she was also being held very gently but securely in her potions master's arms. Amongst the immense lingering fog in her mind, Hermione thought nothing of nuzzling herself closer to the tall man in dark robes who reacted with silent bewilderment as she pressed her nose to the area where his neck and shoulder met, her breath warm on his skin.

Frozen by the small act of affection, Snape could do nothing but stand there. He slowly became aware that as she had nuzzled closer, that the rest of her upper body was tightly pressed to his side. Aware of her womanly shape for the first time, the death eater found it hard to concentrate on anything other than the increasingly dark thoughts that were swimming around his mind like sharks circling their prey.

Abruptly, he pulled away from the girl, almost causing her to fall off the desk completely. Clearing his throat, he adopted his usual cold, callous demeanor and glared down at his student's questioning brown orbs.

"You will use this as a lesson to be less clumsy next time, Miss Granger, or risk losing life or limb," he spat the words out at her. His cruel manner shouldn't have shocked her, but Hermione felt a sudden wave of disappointment that differed from the kind she would feel for doing something incorrectly, but was still familiar. It was akin to the same feeling she experienced just the night before at the Yule ball, but the thought of this horrified her and she pushed it out of her mind just as quickly as it had come. Now standing on unsteady legs, Hermione squared her shoulders, prepared to take on another task. What was a little snake bite going to do to get in the way of her exceeding in everything she does? Nothing. But a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that something else certainly might.

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**I know some of you may have read this chapter and are saying, "Okay - where is the 'lemony goodness' you promised? This has an 'M' rating for goodness sake!" **

**Well, if that's what you're thinking, then you're a skeevy pervert.**

**I kid! But seriously, the lemons are coming. I promise you that. I just didn't want it to be so unrealistic as "OMG LETS HAVE TEH SECKS NOW!" and bam, there you have it. Trying to keep them as in character as possible. Reviews fuel the fire. Keep 'em coming.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for the kind reviews! And special thanks to lestill who recommended some wonderful HG/SS fics to me which ended up inspiring me to write another chapter tonight. **

**There's some brief smut in here just so you can get a taste of what's to come (a very diluted taste, I have to add). Also, there's some torture and what may be considered a 'squeemish' moment for some so I'm warning you now. Hoping to get the next chapter up by tomorrow if not the following day, but please review and let me know what you might like to see!**

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Her pleasure-filled gasps filled his ear with molten lava that traveled throughout his entire body. Her skirt gathered at her hips, Hermione Granger leaned back on her professor's desk as he thrust into her tight wet heat over and over again. His fingers had a bruising grip on the delicate flesh of her hips.

As he thrust with more urgency, he found his student's eyes now locked with his. Her skin was feverish and her cheeks flushed with the promise of impending orgasm as Hermione bit her bottom lip in an attempt to stifle the sounds building up in her throat. The girl's eyes burned so intensely with lust that it overwhelmed him suddenly. He grunted out his climax just as her own had come – her secret inner walls milking his seed from the immense hardness that filled her to the hilt. Crushing her lips with his own, he swallowed her cries of ecstacy.

Severus Snape's eyes snapped open. He was sweating, gasping for air, and all too aware of the immeasurable need aching in his nether regions. Ever since he had smelled her as she lay in his arms – perfectly vulnerable and having just escaped an untimely death – he had been having intense dreams involving the Gryffindor female. Briefly, but fiercely, he considered ending her apprenticeship with him, but soon realized how suspicious it would seem. He resolved that he simply had to ensure a situation would never arise again that may warrant any type of closeness.

His new goal set, the bat of the dungeons kept his newest victim quite preoccupied. He never asked her to exact snake parts again, but he did keep her busy with books – every book available on potions, to be exact – even those that she had already read which, for even a great lover of the written word such as Hermione Granger, were insufferable at best. It soon became utterly clear to her that Professor Snape was actually punishing her for being so clumsy. Yes, obviously that was the case.

From immediately following breakfast to lunch and then immediately following lunch to supper, she was to read every book he placed before her. When she was done, she was ordered to write a 2000 word essay on what she learned from each book. This lasted for a week with nary a complaint from the seventh-year Gryffindor, but on the following Sunday, Hermione blanched as a book she recognized as having read in her third year was dropped before her with an audible slam. Dust was stirred into the air and she covered her mouth with her arm as she coughed and waved the dust away with her hand.

The man in black robes glared down at her expectantly, his face otherwise immeasurable. Hermione, having spent so much time with her potions master as of late, found herself beginning to recognize the man as handsome and distinguished, albeit increasingly more unpleasant, cold, and arrogant as ever. Opening to the inside cover, she glanced at the last person to sign the book out. Sure enough, her eyes fell upon her own handwriting – slightly messier than it was now, but unmistakably hers. No wonder there had been so much dust – no one else had bothered to take the book out of the library for four years. She briefly accepted her fate, and turned to the first chapter, but as her eyes flitted over the words, she felt as if she could have written the book herself from memory. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she leaned back in her chair.

"_Miss._ _Granger_," icicles in the form of words.

"Sir, I'm sorry but I've already read this book. You see," she turned back to the inside cover and pointed to her hastily written name before continuing, "I took it out of the library in my third year," Hermione chewed her bottom lip nervously. She hoped he would relent, would allow her to do something else more suited to her experience and knowledge.

"Miss Granger, you will read this book and write me a 5000 word essay due tomorrow on not only what you have learned, but why it is sometimes important to review. You may take your leave," his belittling tone was accompanied by a cruel sneer. Not only was he infuriated by her audacity in questioning him, but one look at her teeth overworking her bottom lip, and his mind was flooded with sordid memories of his erotic dreams of her. When she hesitated, seemingly wanting to protest somehow, his impatience boiled over.

"_Leave_," he shouted abruptly, startling her out of her chair. The girl hastily made her exit, clinging the book to her chest. Her mind raced, finding the situation to be quite curious, but she wasn't about to question it any further. Not right now, anyway.

That night, nursing a glass of firewhiskey, Professor Snape found himself plagued with the thought of hoisting a certain curly-haired student onto his desk, yanking her skirt up to her hips, tearing her underwear from her body, and plunging into her hot depths. He was furious with himself for being so unrestrained. He should have been easily capable of shaking the annoying little Gryffindor princess from his mind, but she kept coming back.

Suddenly, a sharp pain snapped him out of his disdainful reverie. He clutched at his left arm and yanked the sleeve up, looked scornfully at the thing that had caused him such an acute sense of pain – the Dark Mark. He did not wish to go, but he was being called by The Dark Lord and he would have to go lest he face the dire consequences that would otherwise await him. He clenched his fists in apprehension. and with a wordless spell, changed into his Death Eaters robes before apparating to where he was required.

There was maniacal laughing that mixed with screams and sobbing emanating from the hall Severus was walking into. He was used to these kinds of sounds when he was called to see The Dark Lord. It had become a sort of background music to these meetings. He barely even registered them anymore.

Walking in, Bellatrix Lestrange was hanging on the serpent-faced wizard, offering herself up to him like a prize lamb roast. He barely looked at her, causing her to become more desperate as she sought for the greatest attention anyone could ever receive in the eyes of a Death Eater.

"Severus!" Voldemort greeted the tall man engulfed in black robes before him who then kneeled respectively.

"My Lord," Severus replied politely and awaited further instructions. Any false move could warrant injury or even death in some cases, though the latter would be harder for the spy to deserve – he was arguably the Dark Lord's favorite. Still, there was no need to be foolish.

"Severus, you have been very loyal to me, and for that I thank you," Voldemort paused purposefully before continuing, "However, even you can fail to provide me with information I so desperately need about The Order," his words hung in the air, betraying a secret meaning, but Snape was not aware as to what it could be. He felt slightly anxious, though his outer appearance would not suggest as such. If he was of no use to the Dark Lord, then he was easily dispensable, and being easily dispensable to Voldemort meant certain torment followed by death. He searched for the thing to say that would be his saving grace.

"My Lord, I only wish to please you and do everything I can to obtain information-" he was cut off by a dismissive wave of the evil wizard's hand.

"Now, Severus, I have not run out of uses for you. I have, however, found another way to obtain information that even you may have trouble gaining access to," Voldemort smiled viciously.

Before Snape could voice confusion, a piercing scream caught his attention. Everyone turned their attention to the direction from which the scream came, looking delighted. In a corner of the room, Lucius Malfoy and Rabastan Lestrange were taking turns tormenting a woman most viciously. She was naked, bleeding from several places both externally as well as internally. She was huddled in the corner, curled up in a futile effort to protect herself. A mass of disheveled hair hid her face. Severus Snape wondered what kind of information the girl could possibly have that he could not presumably get himself, but shock hit him like the Hogwarts Express when the two men grabbed hold of the girl and stood her up, Malfoy grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling her face up for all to see.

Hermione Granger.

She was sobbing but her resolve stayed true. Her eyes shone with more than just tears – there was real courage there. Exposed so cruelly to the bitter cold that lingered where Voldemort was forced to stay until he could truly rise again and descend upon the Order and the wizarding world, she was shivering violently. Upon closer inspection, bruises in the shapes of fingers were evidence that she had obviously been manhandled, but to what extent was unclear.

Severus felt a sudden pang of guilt, but he instead manipulated his face into a sneer. He had to act as if he too derived a sick pleasure from this. He had to force himself not to cringe when Rabastan Lestrange dipped his hand between the girl's legs and forced three fingers into her undoubtedly unprepared opening. Fresh tears sprang from her eyes, but she appeared too weak to struggle. He removed them and marveled at the virginal blood there. Then forcing the girl's face towards him, he smiled sardonically as he stuck them into his mouth, licking them clean.

What seemed like ages later, Severus felt sick to his stomach. Surely the girl would either go mad or bleed to death soon. He could do nothing but bear witness to the cruelty she so bravely underwent as silently as possible. Finally, Voldemort stood.

"Enough!" he walked over to the girl whose head lolled forward. He placed his wand beneath her chin and held it up before he continued, "You have nothing for me, mudblood," he spat the last word out at her and surveyed her closely. She could barely keep her eyes open. Exhaustion threatened to take over. Exhaustion or death. She felt she would soon become delirious. Perhaps she already was because suddenly she thought that Professor Snape was in front of her, lifting her up, and throwing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She hadn't heard Voldemort ordering Severus to return the useless girl to Hogwarts so that she may be a warning and hopefully elicit a rash decision from Potter based on his foolish emotions.

"You'll be fine, Miss Granger," She did, however, hear the hissed words as they apparated into a room she didn't find familiar. The words were all she could register before she slipped from consciousness.

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**Poor Hermione! More to come. **

**Liked it? Loved it? Hated it? Reviews fuel the fire.**


	4. Chapter 4

**As always, thank you very much for your kind reviews. They really inspire me - so much so that I actually continued the story today. It was originally one big chapter, but I split it up into two. In this chapter, we find out how Hermione got captured, a little more about what happened to her, and that Severus Snape does have a caring bone in his body somewhere.**

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Hermione Granger awoke to hushed voices. Her vision was blurred and her body felt battered beyond repair. She had no strength to move so she lay as still as possible, blinking to clear her eyesight.

"Miss Granger, you're awake," a gentle voice floated over to her which came from a distinguished old wizard standing above her. It was Professor Dumbledore. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but found that words could not come. Her lips were cracked and dry and now bled with the slight movement. She was covered with a soft grey cotton sheet, but was aware of her nudity beneath it. If she had the strength to blush, she would have.

"No, no. You must rest. Professor Snape will take care of you," at the alarm in her eyes, the headmaster reassured his student, "Professor Snape has brought you safely back to Hogwarts and knows better than anyone how to heal the physical wounds a Death Eater can inflict. You are most fortunate that he was called and ordered to bring you back," with that, he pat the top of her head very, very gently before turning back to his colleague who stood in his normal teaching attire, sans robes. As her vision cleared, Hermione could better make out the man who had taken her back here. He was tall, sinewy, and his look reflected a bit of something that differed from his usual scowl - concern? Guilt?

"Headmaster, perhaps it will be a better idea for Miss Granger to stay in the infirmary. I'm sure Madam Pomfrey is more than capable wi-" he was interrupted by Albus' hand in the air.

"Madam Pomfrey is not as well versed in such…," he chose his words carefully, "severe injuries, Severus. Not as well as you. In addition, if Miss Granger was to stay in the infirmary, many questions would arise – questions that we cannot afford at this time. It is better she stay here with you until she has recovered," with Severus' reluctant nod, Dumbledore gave the girl one last regretful look before departing.

Hermione tried to speak again, wishing to ask where she was, how she got there. She knew she was back at the castle, but where? Her memory was fuzzy like her vision. Professor Snape turned to the girl and put his hand up much like the headmaster had done to him.

"Do yourself a favor, Miss Granger, and cease that undoubtedly irresistible urge you have to speak right now. It'll do you more harm than good," while he was still as cold and belittling as ever, he seemed to be busying himself with a number of concoctions. As Hermione became more and more aware of her surroundings, she also became more and more aware of the dismal state of her well-being. She recognized some of the things that the bat of the dungeons was working with – dittany, bruise-healing potion, blood-replenishing potion – all aids in healing. So, she was as bruised and battered as she felt. Perhaps worse.

Snape then sat beside her on the bed she lay upon. She looked at him quizzically, but her questions were answered when he produced a cup of hot liquid. Helping her to sit up with the aid of his arm, he held the cup to her lips and allowed her to drink from it. She took a tentative sip at first, testing the temperature, but seeing that it was indeed drinkable, she took long thirsty gulps until the cup was finished.

Herbal tea with honey. She was sure the herbs were some kind of healing kind. The honey was just to mask the bitterness of such herbs and soothe her throat. Instantly she warmed from the inside out and felt a little of her strength returning to her.

Hermione was a bit startled when she felt her professor's other arm make it's way underneath her knees and lift her up, sheet and all. He walked her into an adjacent room that held a large footed bath filled with steaming water.

"Can you stand?" his voice was softer but detached. The injured girl was not sure she could, but she wasn't about to have her male potions master bathe her. She nodded as best she could.

As he placed her on her feet, she immediately felt she might swoon. She tried to grit her teeth and stand straight but she found it too difficult. Everything hurt and begged her to just stop trying. She collapsed, but Severus caught her before she hit the stone floor. Now he was the one gritting his teeth. His voice was reluctant but gentle when he spoke.

"You'll have to let me help you, then," Hermione's eyes widened at this. She clutched the sheet to her naked form the best she could, despite the fierce messages of pain it sent throughout her entire nervous system. Severus pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

"Miss Granger, while I am sure that the hormonal male dunderheads at this school are all dying to get a peek at you, I can assure you that this will not be pleasant for me," despite the reassurance, Hermione found that his sarcastic words stung a little. Still, she was growing rapidly aware of the fact that she couldn't do this by herself and Professor Dumbledore told her to trust him. If she couldn't trust Dumbledore, then she truly could trust no one – a fact she wouldn't be able to face if it were true. Hesitantly, she let the sheet fall.

Snape resisted the urge to take a sharp breath. He was not lying; it would not be pleasant for him to have to care for her countless wounds. He did not want to view her naked body in such a way – ugly purple bruises, skin covered in dried up blood, not to mention the other more personal injuries that would no doubt need attention. But she was still a beautiful specimen and he fought hard to keep his thoughts focused soley on her recovery.

As he lowered her very gently in the tub, Hermione grimaced and then sighed. The hot water simultaneously brought awareness to all of her injuries and soothed them. She met her professor's eyes for just a moment, but found she couldn't bear the shame. She turned away, looking at some random spot in the water.

With a sponge and a gentler touch than she could have ever imagined, Severus Snape washed Hermione. He softly scrubbed away dried blood and dirt, the once clear water turning ugly now. She never met his eyes, but watching the water becoming cloudy and dirty with the mess he was cleaning off of her, Hermione's fuzzy memory became crystal clear once again.

She had run out of the classroom, following her professor's shouted order to leave. She wondered why he was so adamantly cruel to her. Since only very few students stayed over Holiday, Hermione thought it would be a good day to do some studying in the courtyard. It was a relatively temperate day for Winter and the last of the snow that had fallen during the ball had finally melted away. She settled herself on a stone bench, unwrapping her scarf but leaving it hanging upon her shoulders. It was still cold, just not bitter.

She became aware of a presence behind her a little too late. She spun to see Lucius Malfoy closing in on her, and when she tried to back away, she bumped into a man she had never seen, but had certainly read about – Rabastan Lestrange. He had an evil toothy grin and withdrew his wand to her, but stopped on Lucius' order.

"No need to immobilize her, Rabastan. I like when they fight," Malfoy laughed cruelly as he grabbed a firm hold of Hermione, his gloved hand covering her mouth, stifling her screams. She tried to bite him, but was rewarded with a firm slap across the face.

"Mind your manners, mudblood," Lucius shook a mocking finger at the girl before he and Rabastan apparated the three to an unfamiliar place for Hermione. She struggled as they dragged her into a great hall. A man was standing at the front, his back to them, but when he turned, she gasped behind the hand that held her voice captive. _Voldemort._

She was sure she would die, but she wouldn't die crying or begging for her life. Gryffindor courage surged through her, and she made the decision right there and then that she would hold her resolve no matter what happened just as her clothes were ripped from her body.

Tears began to fall from Hermione's eyes as she recalled the hours of torment they put her through. Death Eaters would take their turns ogling her naked form, grabbing at her breasts and hips and thighs. Pinching her buttocks until she squealed. They would cut her, slap her. Once Lucius told her she was free to run, but when she got to the exit of the hall, Rabastan stopped her, laughing, always laughing.

After he had thrust his three fingers into her virginal opening and licked her blood clean from his fingers, Hermione felt her stomach turn. She wished for death, but wouldn't ask for it. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction. For hours more they tormented her, and just when she thought she would go mad or die from it all, it was Snape, no longer dressed in Death Eaters robes that carried her back to the castle and told her she'd be alright.

Severus was perturbed by the girl's tears, but made no attempt to comfort her. He continued his gentle ministrations, having to cast multiple wordless spells to clear the water of the mess. He had her dip her head under the water, cleaning her hair which was so heavily matted with dirt and blood. When that was clean, there was only one other place that he knew would need attention, but he had been avoiding it until now.

Slowly so as not to startle her, he moved the sponge down her body to her abdomen. He scrubbed there in lazy cirles before slowly moving lower. She gasped as she felt the sponge make contact with her secret folds – bruised and torn from the cruel ministrations of her deranged captor. She turned tear-filled eyes on Snape, glaring at him with hatred.

"Miss Granger," his voice was so soft, so regretful that the hatred turned to understanding which turned to defeat. Hermione turned away from him again, pressing her lips firmly together to stifle sobs as her potions master gently cleaned her abused maidenhood. She silently thanked Merlin that she had not been further violated by her captors. She had heard the stories. She knew she was lucky.

When he was finished, he helped her out of the tub and into a large, soft towel. She leaned upon him heavily as he quickly dried her. Then, scooping her up again, he laid her down upon the bed she had been in earlier. Somehow a new set of sheets had been placed on his bed – sheets that weren't stained with her blood. With a quick but tender touch, Severus applied healing salves and pastes to Hermione's wounds and bandaged any that were particularly bad. Again, he regretfully applied a soothing and healing ointment to the seventh-year's nether regions. This time she did not cry, but she did wince time and again, looking anywhere but at the man aiding her.

When he had finished caring for her wounds, he _accio'd_ a neatly folded pile of clothes to her. At her dubious look, he rolled his eyes and aided her in putting on a long, soft white shirt that went down just past mid-thigh and underwear – her sleeping clothes. She was now aware of the fact that she would be sharing Severus Snape's private bed chambers until she had fully healed.

Standing, Snape seemed unsure of himself. He had trouble meeting the girl's eyes. He felt a strong pang of guilt. If he had not thrown her out of his study, she would not have been captured by Lucius and Rabastan. Severus would have found out about the plan and been able to conceal her from them. Without speaking, he extinguished some of the candles in the room, dimming the light considerably. Exhaustion began to overtake Hermione once again. She yawned. She wanted to ask questions, wanted to talk to her professor who had always been so cruel but now seemed so caring, but instead she just slept.

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**So what now? Methinks some lemons may be in order!**

**Please review! **


	5. Chapter 5

**This is part two of what was initially just one very long chapter to continue where I left off in chapter 3, but I found the need to keep this part seperate. Lemony goodness in this chapter - the first of many, many more to come if you keep going with the amazing reviews!**

**But would I ever bribe you? Nooooo 0;) Just remember that I put up TWO chapters today. My love for you is endless, obviously. Well, you and this story.**

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Severus was attempting to drown his guilt with firewhiskey as he sat in a sturdy leather chair, staring at the fire. His attention was called to the girl sleeping in his bed when he heard her stirring. He was surprised to suddenly hear her thrashing and crying out.

Jumping from his seat, he rushed to her and found her in the midst of a nightmare.

"Miss Granger," he shook her lightly at first, but when her throes did not cease, he shook her more forcefully, "Miss Granger!"

She awoke with a sharp gasp reaching out for anything or anyone she could get a hold of. Grabbing a firm hold of her potions master's waist, Hermione buried her face into his wool-clad torso. He froze, but his lingering remorse softened him around the edges. One hand went to her soft wild curls and rested atop her head, but he made no other move to embrace her. He simply allowed her to embrace him. That was the most he could offer, and coming from the bat of the dungeons, that was an awful lot.

Hermione awoke from her nightmare terrified and shaking. When she sought for someone to comfort her, she had no one to turn to but Severus Snape. Her small fingers clung desperately to his garments and she inhaled his scent, her shaking subsiding with it. As she sat clinging to him, she was suddenly aware, much to her surprise, that she was almost completely healed. _Silly,_ she thought to herself, _of course I'd be healed. Professor Snape is impossibly excellent at potions._

She contemplated her potions master. Normally so callous and cold, he turned out to be a gentle care-giver if not just a bit uncomfortable. He was strong and had saved her and she needed so desperately to forget what had occurred, to be reassured that she was indeed alive and well and safe. She looked up at him, her brown eyes shining in the firelight.

At first he avoided her gaze, but when she refused to look away, he finally returned it. His coal black orbs looked pained, either by the situation at hand or by what had happened to her, or perhaps both. Or perhaps by something else entirely.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat for a moment. Slowly, shakily, she moved up his body, moving onto her knees on the bed before him as he stood beside it. He looked slightly bewildered, but did not move. She stared into his eyes, trying to see deeper and deeper. She recognized his guilt, his bewilderment, his concern, and she recognized need. She was not sure if this was her own need reflected back, but she didn't really want to know. With an agonizing slowness, Hermione closed any remaining distance between Severus Snape and herself and touched her soft lips to his.

She felt him stiffen, but she pressed on, kissing him fully. Her tongue began to probe at his lips, seeking entrance, and finally he seemed to relent. He grabbed her, pressing her to him as his mouth opened for her and kissed her back with an equal ferocity. Placing her hands on either side of his face, Hermione was nothing but nerve endings and hormones and pure _need_.

Soft moans made their way from her lips onto his and Snape lost much of his iron nerve. He moved from her mouth to her neck, kissing and sucking and occasionally nipping at the flesh along the way. He wanted to devour her. This girl was vulnerable and needy and beautiful and it seemed now that he needed something as well – something that only this girl could provide for him.

Hermione threw her head back, her hands moving to the back of his head, holding him to her neck. He moved down to her collar bone and nipped, eliciting a soft gasp from her. He pulled back suddenly, and grabbing the hem of her night shirt, he yanked it up over her head and immediately crushed her mouth with his.

An incessant throbbing in his trousers begged to be released. He pressed it against her thigh and she mewled, rubbing against him. The friction made him take a sharp breath and he pulled back, his eyes narrowing at her. She smiled mischievously.

He glanced down at her naked torso and drank the sight of her in. The bruises had mostly faded. Her skin was back to its ivory complexion. She looked like cream and smelled just as sweet. Her breasts were magnificent – high and round with dusky pink buds begging for attention. He dipped his head low and took one of the peaks into his mouth. She arched her back immediately in response, moaning low in her throat. He sucked at her nipple hungrily, laving it with his tongue before closing his teeth around it gently. When he did this, she whimpered, tangling her fingers in his hair. Her other breast called for attention as well and he provided it, savoring her young flesh.

Hermione could feel her wetness increasing with every passing minute. Her desperation set every inch of her on fire and his ministrations only fanned the flames until it was an inferno of proportions that she never thought possible. Sure, Hermione had fooled around with boys before – doing everything except intercourse, but she had never felt _this_ way before. She had never felt like her life depended on this man having her in the most complete way.

"Please," she choked out, bucking her hips, and Severus couldn't have asked for a sweeter sound. Pushing her to lay upon his bed, he moved over her, hooking his fingers into her underwear and pulling them down her slender legs. He moved his hands back up, over her ankles, her calves, and to her inner thighs before pushing them apart.

Her sex was pink and glistened with her arousal, the tiny bundle of nerves fully engorged. Her heady scent filled the air and he growled low in his throat before bending to taste her. First, he flattened his tongue out and licked her fully just once. He relished her taste. Then he placed soft teasing kisses along the folds until she said the blessed word again.

"Please," her voice more insistent.

Delving into her sex, Severus probed her with his tongue causing her to mewl and gyrate beneath him. Her fingers grabbed desperately for the sheets, crumpling the material in her tiny fists. He sucked lovingly at her labia before moving directly to her needy little clit. Wrapping his lips around it, he tickled it with his tongue while he sucked at it, sending her into a frenzy.

"So good… please… sir," her calling him 'sir' as if they were in class drove him to a place he didn't expect. He stood up and disrobed his torso hurriedly. Hermione sat up to help him with his trousers. She pulled at the belt and buttons and when his large, throbbing length was finally freed, her eyes were wide with wonder. At the tip, a small drop of fluid was leaking out. Taking him into her hand, she leaned forward and touched her tongue to the drop, tasting it. Her potions master hissed in response and pushed her back down again, moving between her thighs and positioning himself at her opening.

He slid his tip up and down her sodden quim, eliciting groans from both of them. He hesitated for a moment, seeking out her stare just then. Her eyes only reflected a desperte longing and he was powerless to resist. He slid into her slowly, inch by inch. He gasped at her tightness and the wet heat he encountered there. When he was finally at the hilt, he pulled back and thrust again. Her hands moved to his back and she began to arch her hips up rhythmically to meet his thrusts. They kissed again, mouths hungry for the feeling of dueling tongues and daring teeth. Their pace quickened as she dug her nails into the flesh of his back, his senses going into overdrive.

Her increasing whimpers and cries alerted him to her close proximity to climax. He reached down between them and expertly placed his thumb and forefinger around her hard sensitive clit and rolled it between them. Sure enough, she gasped, her muscles tensing as her inner walls grasped and squeezed at his cock in their climax. He thrust once, twice, thrice more and came with a low hiss, pumping his seed deep within her womb.

Careful not to collapse onto the girl, Snape fell to the side of her. They lay together, chests heaving, skin glistening with perspiration. Hermione turned and nuzzled herself into her professor's chest before they fell fast asleep again.

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**Mmm! Hope you loved it! Let me know!**

**Up next - the morning after!**


	6. Chapter 6

**As always, thank you for the reviews.**

**When I first posted this chapter, it was a little short but the content was necessary to let readers in on what was going on in the minds of Hermione and Snape. Suddenly, though, I was struck with the need to continue writing, so I wanted to add to it rather than just post a seventh chapter. **

**Voila! A newly edited chapter six just 2 hours after it being first posted. Hope you like it! Serious lemony goodness coming up in this one! **

**Keep reviewing because that's what keeps me writing. Good or bad, I love to read and respond to them.**

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Hermione awoke slowly, stretching her sore limbs like a cat. She started to wonder about the strangest dreams she had encountered in her slumber when she finally became aware of her surroundings for what seemed like the tenth time in only a couple of days. It was dark in the room, the candles and fire long extinguished, but she still recognized it from what she now realized had not been a dream at all. She was in Severus Snape's private chambers.

No daylight came in due to a lack of windows in the dungeon, but Hermione's internal clock told her it was certainly morning if not yet noon. The memories of the previous night flooded her mind and then continued lower. Squeezing her eyes shut, she forced her breathing to slow, but her arousal smoldered on.

That's when she also realized the acute absence of a warm body beside her. In fact, her potions master – _turned lover now?!_, she thought to herself – was nowhere to be found. Her insides churned with anxiety rather than arousal. Where did he go? And what was going to happen when he got back?

Surely, she could admit to herself that she initiated the contact between them. She blamed her actions on her traumatic ordeal. While Hermione knew she had been very lucky. Most girls taken by Death Eaters were raped multiple times over by groups of cruel, dark wizards and then tormented until they begged for death. She had not even experienced half of that. She left in the arms of her professor, battered and exhausted, but sane and alive. Still, the thought of how it could have been much worse shook Hermione to the core and when no emotional comfort could be found, she sought physical comfort.

But what now of Snape? Had he needed comfort too? Comfort for his apparent guilt over the predicament she came into? The pain in his eyes said everything – she didn't need _legilimens_ to know that he felt it was at least partially his fault she had been captured. Or did he need comfort for his miserable existence? Severus Snape was not a social creature. He spent most of his time to himself when he was not making rounds of the castle or teaching his classes. No one had ever seen him with a woman, but judging by his skill, he was experienced. Could he have been lonely? The thought of just how skilled her professor had been caused a deep blush to color her cheeks

Caught up with her own thoughts, she did not notice the approaching footsteps to the chamber door until it swung open. She found herself startled by her professor's presence as always, and unsure of how to act. Offering him a weak smile, she pulled the sheet around her as she was made all the more aware of her state of undress.

Severus' lips were in a firm, thin line. He had come to awaken early that morning and promptly left, needing to clear his head. He spent the whole morning organizing his storerooms even though they hardly needed it.

Teacher-student relations were expressly forbidden, but the impropriety of their sinful act wasn't the only thing bothering him. Somehow, the insufferable chit had gotten under his skin – she had to in order to have coaxed him out of his shell of stark control. She was so warm, so inviting, and certainly prettier than any of the whores he had ever picked up. She had been so willing, initiating the act, which made her much different than the girls he was offered by the Dark Lord and therefore obliged to take.

Still, something else about her intrigued him so. She was brilliant, though he'd never tell her or allow her to think so. There was a reason she was considered the brain of their annoying trio. If it hadn't been for the wits of Miss Granger, Potter and Weasley would be long dead. She had a real talent for magic, that much was true, even if she did so incessantly sought for her professors' approval to the point of being a pest.

He looked at her now, the curves of her figure just visible beneath the sheets that she so carefully wrapped around her. He fought the urge to raise an eyebrow. _So modest, so suddenly?_ Shaking his head at his own snarky thoughts, he threw some clothes at her from where he stood, careful to maintain his distance.

Just barely catching the pile of clothing, Hermione looked at the tall wizard standing across the room with questioning eyes.

"They're your clothes. I'm sure you're feeling better…?" at her nod, he continued, "Yes, well, you may get dressed, but unfortunately you cannot leave my care just yet. Considering the… nature…of your capture, it cannot be certain that you are completely well at this time," he averted his eyes from her and turned away. His hand was on the door when a small hand on his arm stopped him. He spun around to face the small girl standing there, wrapped up in his sheet.

"Professor…," Hermione bit her lip as she searched for the right words, unbeknownst that this small act was maddening for the man towering over her. He closed his eyes, but saw flashes of memories from the previous night. He opened his eyes again, narrowing them at her as he waited for the girl to find her voice.

"Last night," she finally said, but her words fell short again. _How do you have this kind of conversation?, _she thought, frustrated with herself.

"Last night," Snape interrupted coolly, "was a lapse in judgment on both our parts and will not happen again. I expect there to be no further mention of it," before she could respond, he left the room to allow Hermione her privacy.

His words stung, but Hermione should have expected such. In fact, she couldn't quite figure why she felt so disappointed. Sure, she had always admired her potions master for his brilliance. She only hoped she could manage to be half as good of a witch as he was a wizard. And yes, something about his tall, dark image was indeed quite handsome – the deep wrinkles in his brow made him look distinguished just as much as they made him look stern. But _wanting _Professor Snape? Perish the thought!

After dressing herself, Hermione took great care in smoothing her mane, checking her reflection in the adjoining bathroom before she pulled the door to his chambers open. Severus was standing on the other side, waiting impatiently, his arms crossed. Glowering at her, he moved past her, careful not to make contact, mumbling something about witches taking far too long to dress and began searching his bookshelves for something.

Snatching up a few volumes, he placed them on the desk in a far corner of the room. He pointed at the chair, directing her to 'sit'. As she did, she cocked her head to the side to try reading the titles of the books he held. She dreaded that they too were books she had read before, but Professor Snape seemed to read her mind.

"Miss Granger, it would seem I've been a bit… unfair to you. While review is, indeed, crucial to retaining information – new information is just as vital to your education," he sat in the big leather chair by the fireplace before he explained further, "I am sure you will find that you have not read the titles before you. I expect you to finish them and that I receive a 2000 word essay for each book summarizing what you have learned,"

Hermione felt her excitement bubbling over, and much to his annoyance, so could Severus. What made it more annoying was how endearing he found it.

"Don't get your knickers in a knot, girl. These are hardly top-level potions books, but they are things that students would not normally encounter during their time at Hogwarts," despite his sneering insult, Hermione's elation practically filled the room.

It was hours into reading before a strange noise caught the attention of the two silent beings at once. They looked up curiously before a second noise turned the attention on to Hermione, or more specifically, her stomach.

"I s'pose I'm a bit famished," she smiled sheepishly, looking at Snape through long eyelashes. She found herself to be quite comfortable now as she read delightedly while the wizard did his own share of silent research. The new information in her mind had almost pushed the sinful event that had occurred between them out of her mind completely. That is until brown eyes met black. A faint blush creeped up over the seventh-year girl again as she averted her eyes.

"Certainly. I'll call for some supper to be brought down," just then a house-elf appeared in the room with a crack. Snape ordered the little creature to return with meals for the two of them before it disappeared again.

"You have a house-elf?" Hermione didn't approve of the ownership of house-elves. She found it barbaric and sad. She had been under the impression that none of the faculty at Hogwarts actually _kept_ house-elves, only that many worked for the castle itself, but apparently she had been wrong.

Snape ignored her disapproving tone. He did not have to explain himself to a student. Something snide was just on the tip of his tongue when the tiny creature appeared again, precariously balancing two trays of hot food. He grabbed one tray from the house-elf, ensuring that there would not be a mess on his floor. Pulling up a chair, he sat at the desk before Hermione just as her tray was placed in front of her as well. She smiled warmly to the creature, which it returned before immediately vanishing again.

Severus huffed. Now she was going to show kindness to his servant? How typical. He would have to watch her carefully, lest she manage to trick him into giving the creature an article of clothing. He had a feeling she'd be just that crafty, recalling how Potter had managed to trick Lucius into freeing his own servant only years prior.

He eyed her cautiously, as if she would trick him at any moment, in fact. The girl was trouble, clearly. He found himself wondering as to how their second – and hopefully their last – night sharing such close quarters would fare.

After they had finished eating, they immediately went back to their books. It seemed that neither party was all too thrilled with the idea of having any kind of conversation. It was too risky. Still, as the time waned on, every so often, Hermione found herself looking up to study her potions master rather than the books in front of her, and little did she know that when she was not eyeing him, he was certainly eyeing her.

Her complexion glowed in the candlelight, but her face was alight with something more – Snape could swear he was actually watching her knowledge grow right there in front of him. He could almost see the wheels in her mind turning. Her eyes danced over the words on the pages and she seemed more and more eager to turn each page as if the secret to life itself would be discovered. She was…

"Magnificent," Hermione glanced up at the murmured word. She looked at Professor Snape curiously. He silently cursed himself for the blunder. He hadn't mean to say his thoughts aloud. Immediately, he busied himself with his own reading, carefully avoiding the girl's gaze.

Hermione's brow furrowed. He had been looking at her. And what did he say? Magnificent? Could that have been directed towards her? She shook her head, sure it could not have been, but then she thought again once more. Curiosity began to twist her stomach into knots. It slowly moved its way up her chest, into her throat, teetering on her tongue and then knocking on her teeth, begging to be set free.

"Professor, sir,"

"_Yes, _Miss Granger," his hissed reply reflected his irritation, but she pressed on.

"I wanted to talk to you about…," she summoned her Gryffindor courage, "Well, about last night,"

"Miss Granger, I do not wish to speak of that. Kindly cease and desist," his voice was deadly now. A true warning, but Hermione Granger wasn't always so obedient.

"No, we're going to talk about it. We… wehadsex," the last statement came out in a rush of breath. She blushed. It seemed like such a strange thing to say. She wondered how she could have said it better. Made love? Heavens no. Fucked? A bit too crude. 'Had sex' seemed to be the best option after all.

Snape sneered and shut the book with an audible thud.

"Miss Granger, if you cannot bring yourself to even speak the words clearly and be an adult, why do you want to talk about it?"

Hermione bristled.

"I can _too_ speak the words clearly and for your information I am 18 which means I am an adult, _sir_," she spat the last word out at him, contempt filling her.

"An adult, Miss Granger, would know when to quit while they are ahead. If you do not quit this silly, girlish fascination-" he was abruptly cut off by the seventh year rising to her feet.

"Silly girlish fascination?! You cad! That's what it has to be doesn't it? I must be the hormonal school girl lusting after my professor, is that right?"

"Well if you are claiming that you are not hormonal, your actions are certainly contradictory at this moment!" his voice raised along with hers, and now it was Snape that was on his feet.

"Oh, my apologies, Professor," the words were ground out in a way that would make any other man who wasn't Severus cringe, "You see, I'm a tad emotional because I was kidnapped, tortured by Death Eaters, and now have to stay with an insufferable git who I happened to shag in a moment of pure delirium-" she wanted to continue, but her potions master had quickly had quickly closed the distance between them and was towering over her now, swallowing her up in his shadow like he had done the night of the ball.

"Me insufferable? You are infuriating. You are pathetic and weak. And if it were a moment of pure delirium on your part then it was a moment of complete madness on mine!" he spat each word out, twisting the proverbial knife. Her eyes shining in the flickering light, she seemed to choose her next words very, very carefully, speaking them with purpose.

"I hate you," her eyes were narrowed up at him and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep her visage from faltering.

"Mutual, Miss Granger," he smirked as he spoke before he suddenly reached down and picked the girl up, crushing her body to his just as he crushed her mouth with his own.

They kissed with fervor as their angry words died off; they took to dueling in a different way. Tongues and teeth clashed as Snape backed the girl up against a wall, supporting her weight with his arms. He moved one hand to her bottom as she wrapped her legs around his waist, the skirt of her uniform riding up exposing her thigh and hip to the cool dungeon air. Her skin rose up in gooseflesh everywhere.

Hermione wriggled her hips, feeling his erection against the apex of her thighs – layers of cotton and wool separating them.

"Tart," he growled before thrusting up at her, his eyes almost rolling back with the friction just that single movement created. The girl he had pinned to the wall mewled and thrust her hips back in earnest.

"Please… now… want you… inside me," she babbled almost incoherently. Severus could barely contain the smirk on his face.

"But you hate me," he teased as he dipped a hand between them, pushing her underwear to the side to find her soaked and ready for him. He cooed at her mockingly as he ran his fingers over her folds with a maddening gentleness.

The young witch bucked her hips, yearning for more. He found himself surprised to hear her own growl escape her throat – feminine but low. His brow furrowed now, entranced with how such an animalistic nature could hide in such a delicate-looking witch.

He ceased his ministrations on her quim, but instead released himself from his wool confines. Holding her sodden panties to the side, he thrust into her at once, driving her up the wall in the process. She cried out, clutching at him with all her might.

"You are infuriating, witch," the words were forced through gritted teeth as he buried himself in her heat over and over, pulling back almost to the point of coming out completely before driving his length back in. She bucked her hips to meet him, twisting and writhing on his cock. Sharp whimpers and gasps tumbled from her lips.

"Little cat," he panted, "Little cat in heat," he punished her lips with his own again before biting her bottom lip a little harder than he normally would. Though she gasped in pain, Severus could feel her walls begin to spasm. She was so very near to her climax, but now more than ever, he had to be just cruel. He slowed down to a maddening pace, moving inch by agonizing inch. Her frustration was evident on her face as she glowered at him, panting desperately.

"What do you want, witch?" he sneered at her, delighted in his choice of punishment for her. It was obviously working. She stared at him with pleading eyes.

"I want to hear it," he hissed in her ear. He watched as her eyes flashed with shame and desire.

"Now, witch, what do you want!" he demanded once more and she faltered.

"You. I want you. I want you to fuck me. I want to come. I want you to make me come," as the words tumbled from Hermione's swollen lips, Severus picked his pace up again, thrusting into her needy cunt with renewed vigor. Her ecstasy came swiftly and forcefully, her entire body shuddering with its release as her moans turned into gasping breaths. He followed suit, his fingers digging deeply into her flesh as he spilled stream after stream of semen into her, growling into her neck.

They stood there breathing for a while. Hermione grazed his ear with a soft kiss. He exhaled suddenly before pulling away, allowing the girl to slowly slide down the wall and back onto her feet. Tucking himself back into his trousers, Snape didn't look at her as he walked away into the adjoining bathroom.

Hermione felt shame and anger anew, her blood boiling as she watched him walk away with nary a glance in her direction. She felt something with this man that she never felt before – passion. Real passion. And she suspected from his, ahem, actions that he felt it too. So why was he being so… Snape? There was no hope for a man as stubborn and arrogant as he.

Her fists were clenched at her sides, her jaw set. She was about to flee from his chambers. She was prepared to face many a shameful potions class. Indeed she was ready to hate him for the rest of her life, always regretting what she herself initiated between them in the first place when she heard a voice from the doorway.

"Well? Are you coming to get cleaned up or not?" though his expression remained cold and aloof, his eyes danced with some kind of merriment. Registering this, Hermione's angered expression burst into a toothy smile before she nodded, following her potions master into his bathroom. Maybe there was hope for the man after all.

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**Bathtime with the professor? Don't mind if I do! XD**

**Whether you loved it or hated it, I appreciate knowing! Leave a review. The button's so close. Just do it.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Forgive me for taking so long to update! And forgive me again for this incredibly short chapter, but I found it significant to leave it exactly where it ends. I promise I will update with a very, very long chapter very, very soon. And as always, I love your reviews and I thank all of the people who have put this story on their alerts and favorites lists. It means a lot to me!**

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The large bath was already running, filling with steaming water. Despite their previous bouts of intimacy, Hermione looked lost on what she should do. Recognizing this, the raven-haired wizard took a step forward and placed his hands at the hem of her now rumpled shirt. Instinctively, Hermione's hands reached for the ceiling as he pulled the garment off of her. She unhooked her own bra, but he slid the straps down her shoulders until she finally allowed it to fall away. Biting the inside of his cheek, Severus resisted showing any reaction to her bare breasts. Instead, he kneeled before her and hooked his fingers into her skirt and panties, pulling them down to the floor.

Softly, he nuzzled the smooth curve of her stomach. Hermione pressed her lips together firmly. His closeness to her bare nether regions was suddenly unnerving. Standing, Severus offered Hermione his hand as he guided her into the bath. She sunk down slowly, letting the hot water soothe her tired aching muscles. As she got accustomed to the temperature, her professor was doing his own undressing. He did it quickly, not with the same sensuality that he had shown with her.

She took in the sight of his lean, sinewy back – riddled with scars both new and old. She flinched at these. So it would seem that being a Death Eater does not protect you from Voldemort after all.

He slid into the bath in front of her so they faced each other. After a short moment of awkwardness, they began a dialogue. Their conversation blossomed with potion ingredients and books. Somewhere in between discussing alternatives to a bezoar if one is not available and the best way to cultivate armadillo bile for wit-sharpening potion, with this strange new-found ease, Hermione turned herself around so her back was pressed against her professor's chest, their limbs entangling beneath the water's surface.

Snape's body stiffened for a moment and Hermione bit her lip. She realized that perhaps this was a mistake on her part. After all, this couldn't be blamed on animalistic lust nor could it just point to a blooming friendship. This was more intimate, like what lovers would do, and they were not lovers, were they?

Hermione seemed to get her answer when her professor suddenly stood up and stepped out of the tub, leaving her alone in the water. Although it stayed the perfect temperature with the use of a simple warming charm, she felt a small chill at his absence. Neither of them looked at the other as Severus cleared his throat to speak.

"The Headmaster will be coming down to see you soon," he spoke as busied himself getting re-dressed, "You have about 15 minutes,"

Hermione nodded and looked up, seeking his face, wanting to ask him what this all meant between them, wanting to know if they were friends, lovers, hormonally-driven slaves to animal nature, but the potions master had already taken his leave and a familiar ache settled in the young witch's chest.

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